She nodded. She was missing buttons from her coat, he noticed. She had no hat on, and her neck was bare. “Pesty, where are your mittens?”

“Somewhere, I don’t know.”

“Well. Here, take mine.”

“No!” she said. “I don’t care nothing about it. I’ll put my hands in my pockets.”

“Oh, girl! Well, come on then!” He sprang ahead of her to lead.

Cutting across the hill and around was not difficult. Most of the snow had been swept away by the blizzard. Snowdrifts were like white ocean waves among a stand of shade trees just above them. The white waves bulged, about to break over them.

“Look at them over there!” he said over his shoulder again.

“The drifts look deep,” she answered.

“Maybe later we’ll jump in them,” he told her.

“They’ll be over my head,” she said.

“You won’t drown,” he told her.

“But how do you breathe under the snow?”

“There’s air, you’ll see,” he said.

“You’ll have ta go first,” she said.

“Of course, I will,” Thomas answered.

There was a clearing just before Mr. Pluto’s cave. They never cut across the clearing. Thomas felt like a target when he was in the midst of it. He skirted the clearing to come upon the cave at the side.

The heavy doors of the cave entrance were closed tight. Gently Pesty knocked. There was no answer, so she knocked a little louder. Still no response. She placed the flat of her hand on each door. She pushed and pushed again. But the doors did not spring open as they usually did.

“He must got them barred from inside,” Pesty said.

“Darn! I’d better call to him,” Thomas said.

“Unh-unh, don’t call him,” Pesty said. “He must be sleeping; only it’s too late for that.” She looked puzzled.

“He might be in the great you-know of the you-know-what.”

The way Thomas avoided saying the secret made her smile. “He always will wait for me,” she said.

Thomas had an anxious moment at the same time Pesty did. They stared at each other. “He ain’t ready to die,” she said finally.

“What do you mean by ‘ready’?” he said, astonished.

“They know things like that—old folks,” she said.

That could be true, he thought, but he said no more about it. “We have to get in there, see if he’s all right. Maybe I’d better go home, call my papa,” Thomas said. “Papa could break in the doors.”

“Nobody’s gone break them old doors, not unless they got an ax,” she said.

“Well, there’s an ax at the house. Papa got it not long ago,” Thomas said.

“Don’t need an ax,” she said, walking away from him.

“Hey!” Thomas watched her go a second before he followed. “Where are you going to, Pesty? You intend to disappear the way you did the other day?”

Pesty lowered her head, looking ashamed. Then she went on around to the right, away from the cave doors.

The ground angled down in front where the doors were, for here was a fault to the land. Long ago the ground had faulted on the outside top of the cave, above the doors. That was the reason anyone coming up to the cave doors stood before them on lower ground.

On the right and to the rear fault the top of the cave slanted down, like a thatch-covered roof. Pesty stood there at the downward slant. She reached for a clump of frozen thatch and held it tightly in both hands.

“Pesty, what do you think you are doing?” Thomas asked, coming up to her.

“Pulling,” she said. She looked all around; then she gave the thatch a hard yank. A chunk of it came off like the lid to a barrel. Not only did the thatch come off, but a jagged, crooked circle of ground came with it.

Thomas gaped. For there was a black hole in the slanted ground. Pesty quickly climbed up toward the hole.

“Pesty!”

“Shut up, Mr. Thomas,” Pesty said. “You want somebody …” But the rest of her warning was lost as she slithered into the black opening.

8

OH MAN! ANOTHER TUNNEL? A secret way into Pluto’s cave, Thomas thought. I never knew! Papa never knew. Or Mr. Pluto either?

He climbed up, going in just the way Pesty had, before he knew he would. I’m not going to like this, he was thinking. The way was narrow and black. He slithered in blindly and breathed the dank odor of a closed underground. There was no way to turn around to find out if he could see the light from the thatch opening.

Too narrow to turn, he thought. If you try it, you might get stuck. Oh don’t panic. “Pesty!”

“You got to move on down some,” he heard Pesty say. He was so relieved that she was there. “I’m right by you,” she said. “Just move on.”

“But how?”

“Move on! I got to git back there and grab that hole cover.”

He moved forward, sensing Pesty going by him. There must have been a niche in the tunnel side for her to fit into. Suddenly he remembered he had seen something attached to the cave lid. Rope and chain, twisted together. Must have been staked inside the cave wall somewhere, so the cover wouldn’t roll away. Someone in the tunnel would be able to pull it up by the rope chain and close up the hole as though it had never been. Pesty was about to do that.

Take it easy, he thought. Slaves must’ve been scared sometimes. Did they ever use this tunnel? It’s so dead dark.

He wasn’t going to move very far; he didn’t want to bump into anything unexpected. Then she was there behind him. “Move on out, Mr. Thomas,” she told him. “It ain’t far how.”

He never thought to correct her about saying “Mr. Thomas.” “Me, go first?” he said.

“I can’t get by you here. You got to go on first,” she said.

He knew he had to move. And he was moving, crawling and scooting along; crouching, never able to stand upright.

“Pesty! Where are we—” The tunnel turned abruptly. Thomas found himself up against the cave. “It ended,” he said. “We have to go back.”

“You just push at the wall with your hands,” Pesty said. “Press your hands, and slide them over on the right.”

Thomas put his hands against the coolness of the cave barrier in front of him. It was covered with moss. Damp rock and dirt. Gingerly he touched it, placing his palms against it. He pushed, pressing to the right as he did so.

It felt as if a boulder were rolling away, sliding out from under his palms. “I don’t believe this! Is this tunnel a real old one?” he asked.

He saw light, like shade. He saw huge horses right there in front of him.

“Just move real slow, Mr. Thomas. They ain’t going to bother you,” Pesty said.

As if in a trance, Thomas moved out of the opening and into the place of horses. It was a large horse stall. The horses whinnied softly and made room for him.

Pesty stepped out then. She went to the animals to pat their noses and stroke their necks. Their heads bobbed up and down as she slid her hands along their manes. They nuzzled her. “Good horses!” she told them. “Good ol’ Sam and Josie. You Mr. Pluto’s buggy ride. Haven’t been let out.

“They should be outside by now,” she told Thomas. “I’ll have to take them later.”

She left the horses. Thomas followed, closing the stall behind him.

“That back there is a secret tunnel,” he said to her.

“Might be secret to you, not to me,” she said.

“You never told us about it,” Thomas said.

“Nobody never did ask me. Wouldn’t want it to get known.”

He was dazed by what had happened, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. He followed her, realizing they were in familiar territory.

They walked inside Pluto’s cave. And there was Pluto, sitting by the fire, sipping from a glass carafe. He had a piece of wool wrapped around his throat.

Just like that, Thomas thought. A secret way in to see Mr. Pluto. He was amazed that ordinary life went on while he’d done something so strange.

There was the smell of camphor in the cave. Pluto looked surprised when he first saw them; then he smiled. “I see you come the back way. Well, I heard somebody at the door. Couldn’t yell. Hoarse. Figured whoever it was would come back later.” He raised the steaming carafe in greeting. “This here potion is for a slight cold in my throat.”